Snippet #2328858

Marvin Calough Flanked by two armed guards, both wearing state of the art combat gear- by Descorp's standards that is, meaning it leaves most of the backwards ass tech of this dirt-ball planet miles behind, Marvin slides into the Tavern. His usual black suit has been cleaned and pressed, repaired from the horrific state it was in the last time he was here. Even his mask was in better shape, the mud removed from his boots..a nice shine as well.

With a snap of his fingers the two guards move to points where they could, if needed, provide cover-fire for the man, as he moves to take a seat at one of the rear most unoccupied tables. If memory served him correctly it was the same table where he brokered a deal between Descorp and the ruling vampire family of this rock. In his seat he signals for a serving person to bring him a menu. Marvin was cool and collected, not the mess he was before- he had been in contact with the ship..he had been promoted.